


Something; Love

by fifiefum



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Acting, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Declarations Of Love, Drama, Love Confessions, M/M, Requited Love, Romance, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifiefum/pseuds/fifiefum
Summary: With steely eyes, Arthur uttered the last line of their act, "I have nothing left. Nothing to lose.” He thrust his broom and Alfred shouted as if someone had really pained his heart physically and emotionally.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Something; Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the prompt "If you meant it, kiss me" by Hetalia Monday Challenge on Tumblr. Also dedicated to the people who live for theatre <3

Acting is a distinguished art that involved elements crucial to the point that if done right, everyone involved will be completely enthralled and would forget for even a moment they were a mere spectator detached from the wonderfully different world onstage. Arthur Kirkland, a junior, loved it. The stage, the power, the act. He relished being both on the stage conquering the attention and the hearts of the spectators and out of their view making very sure that the play would go exactly as he instructed them all like the ‘theatre tyrant’ as he is. (Christened to him ever since he stepped foot inside their highschool’s exclusive theatre troupe– err, drama club.)

However! Oh God, in all things he thrived in his world, how Arthur _hated_ improv. Well… fine, he didn’t outright hate it. Improv is an art and he would not drag that down. But, oftentimes, it would drag the whole detailed and scripted act. Worse, it could undermine the whole premise of the plotline! And Arthur would outright shove the person who even dares to deviate from the scene into hell and torture them with his endless taunts to force them to utter the name of that Scottish play every single time they enter his theatre. In actuality, it was the school’s theatre, then again, Arthur knows that he’ll be stage director his senior year next year so he may as well call it his now anyway.

Hmm, wait… Where was he going with that train of thought exactly–

“Why?!” Alfred shouted as he deflected Arthur’s lunge with his sword, every word that came out was further intensified by the clash and clang of their improvised broom-swords. “Why do all this when you had it all?!”

– Ah, yes, _this_. Arthur spun left when his 'enemy’ thrust his broom inches from Arthur’s stomach. This was one of their club’s monthly destress-from-the-current-play-we-are-doing-this-spring activities. Their current stage director, Elizabeta, was a god-sent in Arthur’s eyes to let everyone in the club, techies included, engage in impromptu dramas and stories; competition was always there, of course, and the club was divided into two groups.

“Ha! _I_ had it all?” _Agh, Damn it all!_ He pivots and strikes Alfred’s upper thigh just to spite the man who caused this mess. “It-it seems you are mistaken, I have nothing. Nothing!”

Usually, Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F, Jones, would be separated into their respective groups named after the feuding families of Shakespeare’s star-crossed lovers (They had personalized red and blue shirts and all). _Usually_. Also usually, Elizabeta happened to like mixing things up and then proceeded to regroup everyone.

That was how Arthur ended up 'dueling to the death’ against their club’s upstart but excellent freshman actor during their impromptu plays. Alfred Jones was the kind of person who devoted himself to the character he portrayed. The kind of person that was so very kind, sometimes naive, and wouldn’t hurt a soul to gain notoriety on the stage (which was done quite often in these kinds of environments). Arthur liked that. It didn’t hurt him to _like_ like Alfred as well as he liked Alfred’s compelling air onstage. (Sometimes it did, but his love was far greater than a little misunderstanding.)

But his feelings for the other won’t alleviate the fact that he was angry because _someone_ had the nerve to switch Arthur’s 'best-friend-betrays-and-kills-the-crown-prince-because-of-politics’ impromptu plot to something that of a dramatic romance just because he forgot his line and muttered something completely different in context in the middle of the fight! And Arthur was left to quickly bite a response and then his character’s motives suddenly changed. _(“I love my father’s kingdom but you have my heart! You know this.” “Lies! If you loved me as much, you would’ve stopped your father from attacking my family!_ ) Someone just had the nerve to throw him off his balance and now–

The traitor used all his strength as he flung his enemy’s sword, throwing it far away from the other’s hands. It thunked near their audience, almost hitting a student, but both of the actors never took their eyes away from each other. Arthur growled and pushed Alfred down the dusty floor on his ass. The fallen crown prince lay there with his broom-sword meters away and the tip of his former friend’s sword centimeters on the left of his chest, where his heart should be. Both of them were panting. sweating out the tension that suddenly overcame the room.

Arthur thinks it was both a wonderful and terrible scene. Wonderful in a sense he’s bested the other and continued to his planned narrative for their act. And terrible in a way that if this were the reality they both lived in, the best of friends torn by society’s expectation, it would hurt not only the prince but also his heart.

With steely eyes, Arthur uttered the last line of their act, "I have nothing left. Nothing to lose.” He thrust his broom and Alfred shouted as if someone had really pained his heart physically and emotionally.

Arthur’s heart clenched.

But in true Alfred F. Jones fashion, he smiled a smile Arthur saw when it was only them alone under the musty atmosphere of the library with blue eyes untainted by their acting, never lying, and completely threw Arthur’s precise and thought-out chess plan in the trash. He gripped Arthur’s broom, muscles quivering for effect, and whispered, “You had me… and my… love…!” Alfred went lax.

Applause.

Once again, Alfred won over the narrative and his heart.

* * *

Arthur listened to the last goodbyes and see-you-laters of the exiting students. His group won this month’s supply of cheesecake reserved in the cafeteria thanks to their performance. It was mostly him and Alfred but he recognizes the efforts of his groupmates into contributing to their act. Personally, Arthur thinks his performance was sub-par today; he may be overly-critical of himself but he knew that when Alfred forgot his line and did improv ruined his tempo.

Alfred. His acting today almost wasn’t acting at all. Those eyes and that watery smile that had held his emotions for all the world to see. Was it… _love_?

No. Arthur shook his head. It couldn’t be. Alfred was an actor just like Arthur was going to be a stage director. Excellent and good at what they’re supposed to do in their grand world onstage. _Flawless_.

It was upsetting, somehow. Arthur wouldn’t lie that he wished it was real. Not the stab and kill my love part but the one that what Arthur was spared from the pain of unrequited love. _It would be lovely_ , “–If he actually meant it, that he loved me.”

“And if I did?”

Arthur spun around faster than his cues onstage. There was Alfred, leaning on the doorway with a no-nonsense look on his face. The intense red of the setting sun illuminating and heightening every line he’d said and say. “What…?”

“And if I did? If love you, what would you do?” Tight, Arthur’s lungs felt like someone was choking him in the inside.

“Alfred, the activity is over, there’s no need for you to continue the act.” He deflected, frowning. A mix of dread something else he couldn’t describe fluttered in his chest. Suddenly, he knew this feeling; it was hard to breathe.

“What if I stopped 'acting’ when I improvised my line and confessed with my real feelings. What if I told you that I meant what I said. That I love you.” Alfred strode to him, purposeful and his face looking a little flushed. “What would you do, Arthur?”

Alfred doesn’t lie, he acts. But not right now. Alfred was telling him, Arthur Kirkland, that he loves him. Bleeding hell, yes. He knew the other man wasn’t planning on letting him go any sooner if Arthur didn’t give him a reply in this very moment

“Well, if it were true that you love me,” he licked his lips, “If you _meant_ _it_ , kiss me. And maybe, I’ll say I love you too.”

Alfred pouted but then the corner of his lips curved to a smile. “'Maybe’? Aren’t you being too mean on me today? You just stabbed your best friend with a broom.”

Arthur smiled back and chuckled, happiness made fluttered in his heart and warmed his cheeks. “How about a kiss for the prince for his troubles?”

“Mn, yeah, that’s acceptable. A kiss for your prince from my boyfriend, right?” He leaned down a bit and was wiggling his eyebrows so much, Arthur was tempted to smack him instead. Tempted indeed.

However, a kiss on Alfred’s lips was a million times more tempting. Arthur leaned a bit up into those lips and did just that.

They had something. Love.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> I'm going to go back and finish that second chapter of TBD now;;


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